SAM
"Are
you decent?" I call.
"Nope,
so come on in, Carter," the colonel's cheerful voice replies.
I
push open the gear-up room door and stroll in, grinning from ear to
ear. Daniel's departure for P4X-717 was delayed slightly because
- allegedly - he sneezed in the elevator. The colonel panicked
instantly about his allergy shots and ruthlessly propelled him along to
the Infirmary.
I'm
hugging myself - metaphorically - in glee. The only possible
irritant in that elevator car had to be the colonel's aftershave - a
nice spicy woodsy scent - and only the CLOSEST proximity could have
induced a sneezing fit. Ergo, the colonel was either hugging or
kissing Daniel in the elevator. Preferably both. Naturally,
I'm out for empirical evidence to support this supposition.
In
a related matter, an ongoing source of considerable sensory pleasure to
most female personnel on base - plus some of the more discerning males,
and now , specifically, one colonel - Daniel wears Issy Miyake, which
means he both looks AND smells divine. It's fortunate for Daniel
that he is quite shy around people he doesn't know well, or he'd be
blushing morning, noon and night from all the 'interest' that's taken
in him. The majority find his modesty endearing and respect
it. Those who don't have to deal with ME. If they don't get it to
my satisfaction, I go around and explain it to them.
I
think it's quite sweet the colonel thinks it's HIM. I'm not in
the habit of crushing innocent masculine illusions unnecessarily, so
Daniel continues on blithely unaware the better part of his
acquaintance would sell their first born to get in his pants, and the
colonel thinks he's intimidating. Not a small proportion of the
base would sell their second born for a crack at the colonel, another
fact of which I've kept him blissfully ignorant.
It's
just HELL being the most envied 2IC on base. Without
question. Sheer - hell.
Janet
had no objections whatsoever to giving Daniel a booster shot, and while
she had her hands on him, a quick once over on general
principles. Daniel is in deep trouble. Janet is MEAN. She
took one look at the unique combination of stern over-protectiveness
and warm indulgence that typifies the colonel's 'command' of Daniel on
a good day, and realised everything was back to 'normal' between them.
I
wouldn’t like to cross Janet in combat, no way. She checked
Daniel's weight. Frowned a little. Commented musingly that
Daniel's body weight had been falling over recent months. Not
enough to cause alarm - too late! - yet a situation which would require
careful monitoring - guaranteed! - to arrest the decline. She
actually used the word 'decline' in the colonel's hearing.
Twice. The colonel's very guilty, very anxious hearing, from what
Janet tells me. She's like a dog with two tails right now. Daniel
has lots of hot, nutritious, regular meals looming up at him.
Lots and lots.
Poor
Daniel. Janet says he's completely unnerved and in need of moral
support and protection from the colonel. I was going to
meet up with them in the gateroom, say goodbye, give them every second
of privacy - just in case - but this intelligence had me hot-footing it
straight down to the gear-up room. What could I do? I told
Janet I’d check on the fallout for her but really, it's for
me. The colonel throwing out ambiguous not to say cryptic
comments, Daniel refusing to do the decent thing and blush every time
the colonel looked at him? I need to know. I need to know
NOW!
Ha!
And now I do know. The colonel was most DEFINITELY kissing Daniel
in the elevator. And right here in the gear-up room too.
Daniel is flushed and glowing and deliciously rumpled. Smiling at
me anxiously. He's such a darling.
I'm
across the room in a second. Note to self: make sure the
colonel FULLY appreciates just what he has in Daniel. And what
will happen to him if he doesn't.
"Sam,"
Daniel sighs into my hair, hugging me back. I hear some
authoritative 'get on with it, Carter' throat clearing from behind me,
which I ignore. Whatever else Daniel may or may not know, he's
walking up that ramp knowing in his bones I'm still his friend.
His ribs mostly.
Eventually,
I release him and step back, grinning. Daniel is smiling that
enchanting little smile, eyes warm and clear. Then he glances
past me to the colonel and just - lights up.
His
shining happiness takes my breath away. My God, I’d sell my PhD
to have a man look at me like that, to FEEL that. Anything close
to that.
"Gawd,"
the colonel moans, "If the goons from Special Ops could see me now, I’d
die of embarrassment. Team hugs. We carry on like this,
Junior will want in on the act."
I
hear every word he isn't saying.
Oh,
things are better than all right. So much better than I thought
possible. I have both my friends back. One of them has
forgiven me and the other is in a fair way to forgiving himself.
Daniel
ties on his bandanna - another little quirk of Daniel's, which, along
with his cams, makes a lot of us glad to be alive whenever we see him
in them - shrugs on his pack and then stands patiently while I smooth
one strap into place for him and the colonel fusses with the other.
We
both step back, looking embarrassed. Daniel isn’t a baby, he CAN
do these things. We KNOW that. Because he loves us,
sometimes he lets us do them for him. When we need to.
We're going to miss him, however long he's apart from us. He
knows that, so he cuts us some slack.
I'll
be sure to go straight up to the Infirmary and gloat to Janet after
we've seen Daniel off. I'm way ahead on points. She may get
to see Daniel naked but she has to be ethical about it, while I get to
HUG him.
"Time
to go," Daniel says cheerfully. "I'm already late, thanks to -"
"We
RE-SCHEDULED in light of some legitimate medical concerns," the colonel
gets in a pre-emptive contradiction.
"The
colonel is responsible for your welfare, Daniel," I say equably as we
each grab a bag. Whoa! Has he got the kitchen sink in
here? Of course, the colonel has to be macho and take two.
"Better to fuss than be sorry," I finish without altering my tone at
all. It's a great trick for checking if someone is paying
attention. One of my instructors at the Academy used to spring
tests on us that way.
The
colonel pulls a face at me, but he can't call me on it because he
wasn't actually listening. Too easy. He's so focused on
Daniel right now I could turn a couple of cartwheels and he wouldn't
turn a hair. Lucky I don’t take these things personally.
As
we stroll into the gateroom, I see that Major Simpson sent an escort
for Daniel, his Sergeant to be precise. The colonel is obviously
pleased that Daniel's safety is being taken as seriously as he would
wish, and yes, okay, that is HIM. If anybody fails to grasp just
how safe and protected Daniel needs to be, the colonel goes around and
explains it to them. If anybody so much as looks at Daniel funny,
then Teal'c goes around and explains - other - things to them.
We're a hell of a team.
I
have to hide a smile as the colonel imperatively summons the
sergeant. The bags are actually heavier than they look, hard
though that is to believe. I'm quite gratified when the Sergeant
grunts as he takes mine.
General
Hammond walks in, smiling, obviously pleased to see Daniel cosily
sandwiched between two relaxed and definitely not in any way
overprotective or anxiously hovering teammates. Teal'c is
standing beside the general and he isn’t overprotective or anxiously
hovering either. Nobody should read anything whatsoever into the
slight smile or the soft 'DanielJackson' or the touch to Daniel's
shoulder. Or the General's quiet 'Good luck, Dr Jackson' or 'Take
care'. No sirree.
Daniel
is a grown man, a very capable and intelligent man, and he most
definitely does not need us to take care of him. It's just that
we're completely miserable he's being taken away from us because he's
our darling. Our 'fourth' if you have to get technical. That's
all. We love him and we don’t care who knows it. So we'll
stand here side by side at the bottom of the ramp and watch him all the
way up to the event horizon.
"Daniel!"
the colonel calls suddenly. "Diachronic!"
Daniel
turns with a look of surprised admiration, blushes to the roots of his
hair, laughs and leaves us behind with his smile and wave lingering.
So
we watch a little longer. So sue us.
"You
sent for me, Sir?" I ask lightly. I don't want to push it.
If the colonel wants to fill me in on the details, it's his
choice. He has to die if he doesn’t satisfy my curiosity, but
that’s for him to decide. He's a big boy. He can take
it. If push comes to shove, I can take him.
As
I stand in front of his desk, I see - Oh GOD. No. Oh
no. PIE! Lemon meringue! It CAN'T be that time
again! He's supposed to - I'm supposed to get two weeks notice
and FORMS and -
"You
ever searched for your own name on the internet, Carter?" the colonel
asks curiously as he pecks away at his keyboard.
"Sir?"
The threat of imminent Performance Evaluation recedes a tad. It's
his usual MO. Every year without fail he springs it on me, late,
without warning or preparation time, looking hideously embarrassed and
bearing lemon meringue pie as a palliative.
"Look
what I found!" he says proudly, turning the screen a little so I can
suitably praise his accomplishment. "Ignore the guy from
Winnipeg," he orders, closing down the window before I have a chance to
see a darn thing. It does however give me a chance to read the
first sentence of the email before he hits send. 'Undecided' of
Winnipeg clearly invited people to 'Mail Me' and the colonel - er -
did. Looked like sound advice, from what I read of it.
The
colonel came to the wonderful world of computers late in the game, and
took to it like a fish to a bicycle. He's a holy terror when it
comes to the IT support team. Morale has plummeted since the colonel
took his first tentative steps onto the World Wide Web. Plus the -
Other. Email AKA The Application We Don't Name. The
colonel's conviction he isn’t getting all of his memos, allied to a
throwaway comment from Daniel about the wonders of TAWDN for smooth,
rapid inter-departmental communication - the technicians are
afraid. Very afraid. The colonel expects his computer to
get him from A to D in an orderly and timely fashion. If he winds
up at E, or God forbid, gets stuck at B, he reaches for the phone and
the technicians reach for the Valium. Instantaneously in both
cases.
"Who
knew there were so many Daniel Jackson's in the world?" I mutter
weakly. I can't get my mind off 'Undecided'. I hope it
works out.
"THIS
is what I wanted you to see," the colonel stabs the screen for emphasis.
"Daniel!"
OUR Daniel. "Men from ATLANTIS built the pyramids?" Credited to
OUR Daniel. I'm outraged. How DARE they?
"No
wonder he doesn't like to go to those symposiums," the colonel says
gloomily. "Bastards."
Ditto.
"It's
up to you, Carter. We got pie. We can do your appraisal or
we can give these cult goombas a wake-up call they'll never forget."
And
this is a difficult decision because? "Move over, Sir," I request
politely. I sit, scroll and skim speedily. "They have a
geophysics page," I say gently. Well, they spelled geophysics
correctly, but that’s about it for accuracy.
"And
astronomy," the colonel points out apropos of nothing.
"Ascension."
Ascension?
Bastards.
"Have
some pie," the colonel tempts, sitting back and putting his feet up on
his desk. I notice I get the smallest piece of pie nudged
companionably along the desk towards me. I’m not surprised the
colonel is worried he’s still a growing boy.
While
I'm creating a suitable email alter ego, I take the opportunity to
sound him out over a matter close to both our hearts. "Sir?
If I may? About Daniel?" I turn abruptly and find him with
a wall to wall smile, which he swallows the instant we make eye
contact. I KNEW it. "How does HE feel about - "
"Carter?
If I may? About your appraisal? How do YOU feel about - "
JACK
I’m
losing the will to live.
Forever.
That’s how long he’s been gone. Forever or two days, depending on
who you ask. I miss Daniel. Carter misses Daniel.
Teal’c misses Daniel. We think it’s been forever.
I’ve
got my displacement activity to keep me going. The stuff I do in
order to avoid thinking about Daniel, wanting Daniel, every second of
every minute. It ain’t working. Three little things, all
designed to stop me eating my heart out over you know who.
Carter’s appraisal. Harassing the morons on the Men from Atlantis
website. Reading ‘An introduction to archaeology’.
Carter’s
appraisal has taken almost two days to complete. It should have
taken two hours, and that only if I was going some. Carter’s
‘exemplary record’ was set to go down the pan if she’d had her
way. It’s taken us an entire caramel apple pie from the
Commissary, a shit load of polite – on her part - arguments and the
dredging up of a lot of memories painful to both of us to negotiate our
way to a point where we both happy with the appraisal report that went
off to the general. I hadn’t the least suspicion ‘Attitude to
authority’ was a loaded question for Carter until I asked it. She
had a lot to get off her chest. Then she got me talking about
Daniel. She’s damnably persistent and just as hard to shut up as
he is, if one is dumb enough to have a moment of weakness and give her
permission to speak freely. Who knew? Strike one for
displacement.
The
Men From Atlantis website, true, that’s been fun. A small respite
from a 2IC on some kind of cathartic truth/pie kick and the absence of
– who am I kidding? I’ve been hassling them, but I’ve been
thinking about him. Strike two for displacement.
The
book? Not even going there. Foreplay. Me talking
about archaeology turns Daniel on as fast as he turns me on. I
can’t quantify what it is about him that turns me on, ‘cause at the
moment it seems to be every damn thing. I tried with the
book. I really did. Even with the thought of a naked,
turned on Daniel on my lap motivating me, I couldn’t hack it. I
didn’t hack it. I surfed it. I got all the stuff I need
from a website. Literally got it. Which got me thinking
there had to be something wrong with it, if I got it. Had to
be. There is. The site - it’s – it’s called –- ‘Dr Dig’.
He
is SO going to know.
Strike
three. I’m out. I miss him.
Major
Simpson has been calling in his sit rep twice a day, and he makes sure
to say Dr Jackson is well, and having fun with his temple, and getting
along like un maison en flambé with the natives, and by the way,
Dr Jackson says Hi! Again. That’s it. Haven’t seen
Daniel, haven’t heard him, haven’t spoken to him for two interminable
days.
I’m
so frigging depressed, I’m voluntarily hanging out in the briefing room
listening to a somewhat more cheerful Carter prattling on about
helioseismology. Voluntarily. How low can one man go?
“And
of course, we know what THAT means,” Carter say brightly. And
expectantly.
I
glance from the general to Teal’c and back again. Nope.
Wrong there, Carter. Unless that was the royal we?
Frankly,
the sudden sounding of the klaxon and the announcement of an
unscheduled off-world activation comes as something of a relief.
The general positively bolts for the stairs down to the gateroom,
Carter hot on his heels.
After
exchanging long glances of commiseration and relief, Teal’c and I
follow at a slightly more moderate pace.
“Receiving
IDC. Sir, we're receiving the signal on the IDC frequency but this is
not an authorised SGC code,” the technician informs Hammond as Teal’c
and I take up positions behind the technician.
Carter
leans over and checks out the read out on the monitor. ”It says
Comtraya.”
Sounds
- familiar. Where have I – no – aww, crap. CRAP.
Harlan? That’s OVER. Too much to hope for dead, but
definitely buried. I promised. HE promised. Shoulda
KNOWN this would come back and bite me. Shoulda gone with my gut
and sent a bomb through. Made sure. Stupid-assed
sentimental -
”What
does it mean?” the general asks.
“AAHH,
it's kinda like shalome or aloha, that stuff,” I groan, horrified.
”It
was the greeting used by the artificial life form Harlan on PX3989,”
Teal’c says calmly. He can afford to be calm, we stopped Harlan from
finishing the robot HIM. He doesn’t have another Teal’c roaming
around wearing his face, thinking his thoughts, touching his -
”The
one who duplicated you?”
Thinking
I stole HIS life! The ATTITUDE my copy had!
”Yes!
Sir? PLEASE don't open the Gate. Please!”
”I
am sorry about the one called Daniel,” Darian tells my robot
sorrowfully.
Daniel?
Daniel’s DEAD? A ripple of shock runs through us all.
Hammond’s head snaps around as Harlan flinches. Carter sits
upright in her seat, fingers trembling slightly on the keys, Teal’c
looks to me. And away. This strikes too close to the bone
for all of us, we’ve come close to losing him too many times.
Have lost him. We’ve all sworn an oath to protect him. It
was an oath of service from me, Carter, Hammond; our sworn duty to
protect the civilian on our team. To lay down our lives in his
defence. Now it’s as personal for us as it is has always been for
Teal’c. It’s not our duty to protect Daniel, it’s our right and
our privilege to look out for him. We’re the only family he’s got.
Daniel
is dead. ‘Jack’ got Daniel killed. His Daniel. If it
could happen to – No. Daniel is fine. He’s fine. When
was the last time Simpson checked in?
‘Jack’
looks awkwardly over his shoulder. I can see how edgy he
is. He’s looking at me. He fucking should be. He got
Daniel KILLED. He failed, and Daniel should never have been out
there in the first place.
”Get
over here.”
”To
whom are you speaking?”
”That's
Darian,” Carter recognises him once he’s in close up in front of the
camera.
She
didn’t spend nearly as much time with him as I did. How did Dan –
robot Daniel die? Do they feel pain? Did he – did he
suffer? Was he alone?
”Earth.
George Hammond and the other SG1,” ‘Jack’ says breezily.
I
find myself leaning in again. “Hey! You're the OTHER, pal.”
‘Jack’
leans in too. “Do we really have time for semantics here?”
Does
he really have to keep doing what I’m doing? It’s unnerving
me. He’s different. He’s not me. That’s why he got
his Daniel killed. He fucked up. He did, not me.
”What
exactly is the current situation?” the general asks.
”Our
Daniel is dead,” ‘Jack’ says quietly. His abject failure to
protect his kids is now a matter of record. His Daniel? I
wonder if his Daniel was HIS.
I
didn’t get to talk him. My Daniel. He’s too busy – too far
away to keep hiking back to the gate just to say ‘hi’. He’s
eating lots of hot nutritious meals whether he wants to or not.
My orders. Getting lots of sleep. He’s having
fun. Learning a new language. Playing nice with the
indigenous types. Gloating over that strong, vibrant floor he was
so excited about. Plain getting passionate over any old thing.
SAFE.
When
did Simpson last check in?
”Oh,
my,” Harlan sighs.
”Carter
and Teal'c have been captured by Cronus. He's got a ship in orbit and
his Jaffa are everywhere. So it's just Darian and me.”
”Please,
help us,” Darian begs.
”You
have a go,” Hammond gives permission. I turn immediately and lead
my team out of the control room. I want to help out Darian and I
want to take out ‘Jack’. He goes back where he can’t do any more
harm. No question. What the fuck was he thinking? Out
there vulnerable like that, risking his kids with no back-up of any
kind, frigging battery operated! His fucking fault his Daniel is
dead.
MY
Daniel is fine. He’s happily playing with his temple on P4X-717
and He. Is. Absolutely. Fine. I want him here,
under my eye, for me. Personal. Simpson ain’t me, but he’s
given his all so far. No complaints. No - worries.
I’m
not ‘Jack’. I PROTECT my kids, against their will at times, but I
do it. I’m NOT him. Rather have Daniel alive and well and
making me sleep on the couch for a month ‘cause he’s mad at me than -
Come
on, O’Neill. Focus here. Got a mission now, got your other
kids to watch over. Can’t be fretting just because you NEED to
see your lover’s face before you KNOW he’s safe. He doesn’t need
you right now and THEY do.
When
DID Simpson last check in?
I
come through the gate first, as always, heading straight over to cover
the right flank, Carter taking centre, and Teal’c falling into position
behind us to cover the left flank. We hold position for just a few
moments before Darian steps out from the cover of the trees.
”This
way,” he looks and sounds grave. Things have most definitely gone to
shit.
I
told them they’d be okay. I believed they would be. As
Darian leads us confidently down the trail, I try to work out what the
hell I’m supposed to say to him. To his people. They
trusted us and look where it’s gotten them. Out of the drying pan
and into the fire. I turn abruptly to Darian. ”Listen, for
what it's worth, I'm sorry about what's happened here.”
”Oh,
I'm sure that makes him feel better,” a withering voice stops us in our
tracks. My voice.
”HEY!”
I stalk over to face ‘Jack’. “What the hell do you think you're
doing?”
Getting
your kids captured? Getting Daniel KILLED? Endangering the
people of Juna and who knows how many others? Risking the
security of the SGC?
”Same
thing you do. Only better.”
”What
does that mean?” I demand, furious. I’m not the one getting MY
kids killed, and he’s NOT me.
”Better?
It means BET-ter, strong-er, fast-er,” ‘Jack’ says witheringly.
Now
that’s ABUSING sarcasm. And it’s way past time for a reality
check. “You're NOT me and you don't work for the Air Force,” I
snap.
“No.
But that doesn't mean I can't do the JOB,” ‘Jack’ insists.
”What
job?” I’ve seen how well you do MY ‘job’! YOUR job ain’t
it. Shoulda stayed where you belonged. Purpose built for
YOUR job. Maintenance! The only JOB you had to do was
keeping your kids SAFE. And we’ve seen how well you did with
that, too.
”Explore
the universe. Fight the Goa'uld.”
Do
the archaeologist!
SO
doing him. I can TELL. Fight – protect - first!
Explore later. If possible, safe. Them’s the rules.
Or they were, until Daniel charmed his way into our psyche and ruined
us for anything but SG-1 and him. And you got him KILLED, you
fucker. ”Oh, what, like now?” I can do scorn too.
”Hey!
YOU made this mess.”
”What
we DID was help these people!” I insist. WE came here on orders, not
some lone wolf ego guilt trip. We have a mission, a
purpose. If WE die out here, it’s for a REASON, and my kids have
got ME doing every single fucking thing I can to protect them and more,
to see that NEVER happens.
”Oh
come on, I know you better than that. You screwed up and now you're
embarrassed,” ‘Jack’ curls his lip.
”That’s
not the point,” I rebut with dignity. BASTARD! He blames ME
for HIM getting his Daniel killed? HIS fault. Shoulda
stayed where he was put, kept HIS kids safe. Daniel – the others
– they put their faith in me. Daniel trusts me to take care of
him, even when he’s mad about it, or he doesn’t see the point, or he
thinks whatever he wants to do is worth risking his life over.
It’s not about HIM and it’s certainly NOT about ME. We don’t
trade our lives for NOTHING.
”And
like I'm gonna spend MY eternity on that lame-ass planet? Sheesh.”
I
beg your pardon. My mistake. Apparently, Daniel’s LIFE is
an acceptable trade-off for a low boredom threshold. Daniel died
for YOU, and only you, you contemptible - ”You gave me your
WORD!” And I was dumb enough to believe you. I didn’t KNOW
I was a lying two-faced sonovabitch. Always thought my word MEANT
something. The kids got bored and you couldn’t resist, huh?
Big, soulful, blue eyes pleading. You never learn to say
NO? It’s not SAFE?
”Oh,
is this the first time you've LIED to yourself?” ‘Jack’ hoots
derisively.
Only
over Daniel. No way he can tell I screwed that up, just by
looking at me. No way. He was only me until I walked back
through the Stargate. There was nothing there between me and
Daniel. Not then. No way. I’m not THAT
clueless. Or that spineless. He does NOT mean what I think
he means.
“I
told you what you wanted to hear. Besides, what were you gonna do?
DESTROY me?”
”I
MIGHT have!” I frigging well should have! Last time I cut
myself ANY slack. The SOB is walking around with my face, my uniform,
my rank, my team. He’s trying to live MY life. Past time he
tried a life of his own, this one is taken. And thank God the
best part of it is dreaming over a mosaic floor on another world where
none of this shit can hurt him.
”Alright,
come on! Bring it on, Fly Boy! Let's go! Come on!”
You
want it? You want a piece of this? You GOT it!
“Oh, you little –“ I can’t even get the words out, I just
lunge forward and get him in a good solid headlock. BET-ter my
ASS! He’s EMBARRASSING, like a pissy kid squaring off in the
playground. You can say ‘semantics’ but can you SPELL
‘mature’? How ‘bout ‘responsible’?
”Sirs,”
Carter calls.
Only
ONE ‘Sir’ here, Carter.
“As
much as I would like to see how this plays out, don't we have something
more important to do?”
Can
it WAIT? I HAD him, another few seconds and he’d have known it
too. I wrench away from him, back off, spin round. Glare
him down. He’s all shook up. My heart bleeds.
”What
can so few of us possibly do?” Darian asks.
”Couldn't
get Hammond to spring for more troops?” ‘Jack’ asks contemptuously.
”I
didn't ASK. This is our problem.” I made this mess you couldn’t
keep your nose out of, now I’ll fix it.
”I
guess we can't expect any help from the rest of the Juna people?”
Carter asks, though she knows the answer.
”No,”
Darian confirms.
”We
convinced your people to oppose the Goa'uld once before,” Teal’c
prompts.
”Most,
including myself, had never seen an actual God before,” Darian
answers. “Heru'ur had not come to Juna for many generations. And
when Cronus arrived and displayed his great power he instilled much
fear. The people are terrified,” he finishes, sadly.
”Then
we must demonstrate to your people once and for all that Cronus is not
a God,” Teal’c intones.
I
don’t like the look on his face one bit. I got my hands full with
my other half; I don’t need Teal’c lone wolfing it too, on some noble
revenge kick. Either Teal’c. It’s not like they’ve got a
hidden agenda.
”I
suppose you have a plan to back up that rather BOLD yet – cryptic -
statement?” a snide voice enquires.
”YES.
Yes, we do,” I jump in. No way is HE going around thinking HE’S
the guy in charge. I’M the only colonel here. I give the
orders. We’ll all be safer that way.
The
sounding of a deep, peremptory horn makes us freeze. I remember
that sound from Cimmeria. Jaffa.
”It
is not safe to stay here. The forests are heavily patrolled,” Darian
orders briskly.
”We're
not done, pal,” ‘Jack’ just has to push it that bit further.
Guess
he can’t spell ‘professional’ either. Time he learned he’s
nothing but a pale imitation. ”I SO own you,” I growl and turn to
follow after Darian.
’Jack’
is sitting at the table, with his back turned on the rest of us.
The unveiling of our ‘plan’ is not going well. I stand by the
fireplace, where I can watch everybody. I’m trying to keep my hands
fully occupied, because they still want to be around his throat.
This leaves me playing with a cushion. A kinda pretty,
embroidered cushion. Though I hope I’m coming off as a man so
secure in his masculinity he doesn’t have to worry about appearances, I
actually think I’m coming off as a wuss.
“The
only rings I've seen were in that pyramid,” ‘Jack’ snaps.
”There
is a way into the main chamber,” Teal’c assures us.
”Yeah!
By putting the robot at risk.”
I
roll my eyes and decide to put the cushion to good use. I sit on
it. ”Well fine, I'll do it.” I dig embroidery AND shoot bad
guys. I’m well rounded.
”It's
all right, I can handle it,” ‘Jack’ glances to me and away, quickly.
He’s
fidgeting. Looks uncomfortable as hell. Completely frigging
miserable. Well, how would I feel if I’d just seen Daniel killed
in front of my eyes? I’d feel like he looks. There isn’t a
corner of my life that Daniel hasn’t eased into and which hasn’t shaped
to fit only him. I’d be wondering how I could go on without him
too. Couldn’t. The part of my life that used to be Sara and
Charlie is filled with Daniel now. Not excluding them, just
focused on him. I can’t change that, I don’t want to. It’s
not where I ever expected to be, not loving another man and wanting to
be with him, but it’s where I am, and it’s where I’ll stay. Where
I’m happy to stay.
I
look at ‘Jack’ again. Hell of a wake-up call, this.
I
finally get my shit together, admit to myself and the man I love that I
do in fact love him, that I want to be with him, want to make love with
him, not gonna change, not gonna quit. All that good stuff.
I was pretty secure, beginning to think I had it all. At home,
what Danny wants, I’m pretty sure Danny will get. Complete
pushover, there. In the field, I do whatever it takes to keep him
- keep ALL my kids - safe. End of story. I was so sure I
could do it. I HAVE done it. With a little work, a little
adjustment, I could have Daniel AND my job. Hell, with Daniel
admitting he knew my first instinct was to protect, seeming to accept
it would always be that way, I was thinking I’d be better at my
job. Less of that tension that’s made me such a joy to be around
these past months. I could hardly feel any more for Daniel than I
have done, but this way – with us communicating, understanding - I
could be more open, more focused.
It
seems simple enough. If I can’t keep Daniel safe, either I can’t
have him or I can’t have my job. I can’t break faith between us,
can’t allow my needs, my feelings to become more important than
him. Or more important than Teal’c or Carter. First time
out, I’m hit head on by a ‘Jack’ who couldn’t do it, a ‘Jack’ who
fucked up royally, got his Daniel killed and his team captured.
What makes him different from me?
Is
he different?
”This
is very strange to me,” Darian is fascinated by having double the
trouble up close and personal in his living room.
”This
kind of stuff happens to us all the time,” Carter reassures.
’Jack’
seems to pull himself together and get with the programme. His
kids are being tortured by Cronus right now. He’s got no time to
mourn. He turns to face the rest of us. ”So how many Jaffa are we
gonna have to deal with on that ship?
”As
many as one thousand. But that is not the problem,” Teal’c responds.
”What
IS the problem?” I ask, a little taken aback. A THOUSAND?
Versus all five of us? And that’s the EASY part?
”The
rings must be activated from within the ship.”
”Now
see, you didn't mention that before,” I’m annoyed with Teal’c.
Really. Why the hell doesn’t he tell us these things
sooner? I gotta look like an idiot in front of you know
who? I screwed up by coming here, he screwed up by going
anywhere. I don’t even want to edge ahead on points, and this
latest newsflash looks like a frigging TKO.
”We
had very little time to formulate this plan, O'Neill,” Teal’c fails to
soften the blow.
So.
Now I’m an idiot who can’t adequately threat assess and rushes blindly
in where everyone fears to tread?
”It's
alright. Carter and Teal'c might be able to help,” ‘Jack’ suggests.
Carter
and Teal’c sit up straight and wait expectantly. “The other
ones,” ‘Jack’ says with obvious patience.
Oh
yeah? He’s dissing MY kids? I can spot a minor technical hitch in
that suggestion. ”How are they gonna know what to do - and when?”
”I
can communicate with them,” he says casually. “I've been
maintaining radio silence to protect my location.”
And
he’s just telling us this NOW? Has he been taking lessons from
his Teal’c? “I don't SEE a radio.”
”They're
internal.”
”So
you can actually send a signal – “ Carter wanders a little off-point.
”Wait.
Excuse me,” ‘Jack’ taps his chest. “A little static. They said
they'd do what they can.”
I
close my eyes for a second. No matter how often I see it, I will
NOT get used to that. A Jack O’Neill who comes with an operator’s
manual. Static. Jeez. “What about the Jaffa on the
ship?” All ‘as many as one thousand’ of them. Our attack
force reaching the dizzy heights of seven is not about to get me
excited. One of us uses a crossbow, two of us are already
prisoners of the snake we are proposing to attack, and one of us
appears to be out of warranty.
”Once
we have reached the pel'tac, the other levels can be sealed off. Cronus
will have very few Jaffa remaining for support,” Teal’c assesses.
The
majority are out beating the bushes for ‘Jack’. Which means we’re
likely to have an exciting time fighting every step of the way to the
fight if he doesn’t get captured quick enough.
”What
do we with the other Jaffa once we've dealt with Cronus and taken over
the ship?” Carter asks. She can’t get her head around the
logistics either.
”Offer
them freedom,” Teal’c is glowing with righteous fervour while ‘Jack’ is
still tapping his chest. Static, for God’s sake.
Aww,
Jeez. I’m starting to get that ‘Light Brigade’ feeling.
Y’know? Into the valley of death -- It does me no credit,
given the rest of us are well and truly in the shit, and how often
Daniel has proved he belongs with us out here, but still, I’m glad he’s
not here.
Carter
takes cover ahead of me, gestures across the hallway to an open
doorway. I nod, then dart across, drop to a crouch on one side of
the inner wall, check it out as Carter covers my six.
“Teal’c!”
Crap. Both Teal’c’s are down, and one of ‘em is out.
I
head straight over to Cronus’ prone form and check for a pulse.
Dead. I crane over, check out the Teal’c behind him.
Leaking, not bleeding.
“O’Neill,”
Teal’c’s voice is wrenched, weary. I go to his side, kneel.
“Our father,” he falters, eyes burning up at me.
“Is
avenged. I know. Take it easy there, big guy.” I
check his pulse. Thready, weak. Breathing laboured.
“Got yourself a hell of a souvenir there,” I ease his T-shirt away from
the burn on his chest. “Junior up to the job?” I ask.
Junior looks as if it could be in worse shape than the rest of
Teal’c. Sedatives have no effect on him whatsoever. I put a
field dressing over the wound. “You wanna put yourself out,
here? While I get help for ya? Looks like Janet gets to
earn her pay for once.”
He’s
too exhausted to do anything but nod, but I see pride and vindication
in his eyes. Maybe the oldest, deepest wound of all gets a chance
to heal now.
Hell.
“Teal’c – can you hold on a little longer? We got Jaffa loose all
over the ship, the nearest help is on the surface. We can keep
‘em contained for a while, but we need to land and get major
reinforcements in here. Darian can fetch some of his people to
help out until I can get to the gate. Can you talk Carter through
landing this thing?” I hate to ask, but we got no choice.
If the next snake in line steps in to take Cronus’ place, we’ve gained
NOTHING.”
“Carter!
Get in here!”
“Sir,”
Carter pounces through the doorway, running over to kneel by Teal’c’s
side. She stows her weapon and tenderly strokes his sweat-damp
brow. “Teal’c,” she says softly.
“I
am well,” Teal’c reassures her.
Carter
bites her lip and looks at me. I shake my head a little.
“You gotta land this thing, Carter. I gotta get back to the
surface and scare up some reinforcements. Think you can handle
it?”
“You
can count on me, Sir,” Carter says resolutely.
I
smile. “I know. Watch him.”
“Sir.”
As
I leave, she’s already at the control panel, firing questions.
I
still got no idea how those rings work. One minute I’m on the
ship, the next I’m in the audience chamber. Beats me. I
turn and see Jack on the floor. Darian is trying some first aid,
but it doesn’t look good. He’s still bleeding out.
”Go
tell your people Cronus is dead,” I order Darian. He looks at me
gravely. “If they still think he's a God, have ‘em come take a
look.”
He
nods and then strides away. I can trust him to bring his warriors
back with him to secure the area, then I really gotta book back to the
gate with Teal’c. Carter is just gonna have to wing it until I
get reinforcements.
”Carter,
Teal'c?” a weak, almost expressionless voice asks.
I
kneel, slowly. I try to think what I would want, if I were
dying. I love my kids. I wouldn’t want to go to my grave
knowing I’d failed them all. I also know if I lie overtly, he’ll
know. He’s – me. I can’t hurt him like that. “Yours
don't look so good,” I say gently. His face is stilling.
“The real ones, they're okay.”
”Are
we still so far from real to you?”
I
think about Daniel, giving his life to buy his team some time and save
the warriors about to be killed by Cronus’ Jaffa. Sam battling
through agonising pain to buy us the advantage we needed to take the
ship and free Juna, the pain that killed her. Teal’c dying to
avenge his father and save our Teal’c. Jack, bitching and moaning
every step of the way to his end. This end.
”No.
I guess not,” I offer softly. I don’t – gush – except to
Daniel. He knows, it’s – okay.
”Then
I believe we are done,” he says just as softly.
He
knows they’re gone. The radio. He must have felt them –
lost them. Daniel – all of them. It comforts me a little to
know that Daniel didn’t die alone. They were all with him, I’m
sure of it. Jack has died a little with each of them, but now,
for all the silence in his mind, where they used to be – he knows he’s
not dying alone. I’m here with him. And I know he didn’t
want to live alone, any more than I do.
It’s
not just Daniel I’ve grown to love; it’s all of my kids. I
couldn’t be without them, not now. We’re connected and that
connection is in us, between us, not the job. Take three years
from our lives, put us through an entirely different set of
experiences, and still we’d be where we are, we’d be what we are.
Not a team - a family. Here, in our other selves, we’ve seen that
to be true. We’ve all broken every rule in the book. We
don’t know any other way.
I
stay by Jack’s side and watch him slip away as the audience chamber
shakes around us. My Carter and Teal’c came through too. We
just need Danny back, and we’ll be whole again.
“General,
it’s a MISTAKE,” I snap. All that effort – all those lives - and
we just turn around and hand the ship over to the damn snakes?
How many times do they have to fuck us over before we see sense?
“The
decision has already been made, Colonel. This is too big for the
SGC to handle alone,” the general contradicts patiently. “Jacob
Carter will be here in seventy two hours to discuss moving the Tok’ra
base from Vorash.”
“They’re
already laying down conditions for helping? Peachy. Just
peachy. The day they reach out and help US is the day I –“
“Colonel!
That’s ENOUGH,” the general is unwontedly firm. “Your protest is
on record. Now, I if I may?” he asks with heavy irony. “Dr
Fraiser? Can you give us a report on Teal’c’s condition?”
“Sir,”
Janet nods briskly. “Teal’c’s symbiote was badly damaged during
the attack. Consequently, Teal’c’s immune system is
compromised. I’m keeping him under strict quarantine while he’s
in this deep state of Kel’no’reem. I have every expectation the
symbiote will heal itself, as it’s growing stronger and less lethargic
with every baseline observation we perform. Only when the
symbiote has healed itself can it begin to heal Teal’c.”
“You
expect a full recovery?” I ask anxiously.
Janet
smiles. “Yes, Sir. My major concern is avoiding exposing
Teal’c to any kind of infection. If we can see him through the
next day or so, I see no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery.”
“The
Tok’ra have been briefed. They stand ready to assist if Teal’c’s
symbiote doesn’t heal as expected, Doctor,” the general emphasises.
Yeah.
Right.
“Colonel?
Can you report on the current situation on P3X-729?”
“SG-2
and 3 have secured the ship, and the remainder of the Jaffa on board
were evacuated to the surface of Juna. Darian and the warriors of
Juna are guarding the prisoners in a makeshift camp. At Teal’c’s
suggestion, we’ve got Cronus’ body in the audience chamber and Carter
is co-ordinating – er – viewings for the Jaffa and the local
populace. The people aren’t exactly turning back-flips,” I
explain wryly. “They accept Cronus was no god, but they also know
how vulnerable they are to attack from any other Goa’uld with a grudge
or an eye to the main chance. The Jaffa are proving easier to
handle than the people of Juna. They seem to be believing the
evidence of their own eyes that their precious god was slain by a bunch
of Tau’ri scum. Carter has her hands full. As well as
keeping a lid on the POW situation, she’s also making a tentative
survey of the ship’s systems to identify the key personnel required to
investigate the thing.”
“The
Tok’ra – “
I
interrupt the general this time. “Dollars to doughnuts the Tok’ra
want us to just hand the ship straight over to them. The moment they
get their hands on it, we can just kiss it and our best ever defence
against the Goa’uld goodbye. If they want to use the ship, how about we
ask ‘em to pay as they go? Quid Pro Quo, and all that.”
Janet
swiftly smothers a grin as I catch her eye.
“Basically,
we’re hanging on by our fingernails out there.”
“You
did a hell of a job, Colonel. Be proud,” Hammond says warmly.
“I’ll
have to be getting back there shortly, Sir. Any news from
Daniel?” I ask casually. Apropos of nothing. You
know. Not like he’s the love of my life or anything, or I miss
him so much my HAIR hurts.
“SG-11
missed the 06:00 check-in,” the general says calmly. “Which was
to be expected. Major Simpson reported he’d been warned by the
locals to expect a severe storm front to move in. With a twenty
klik hike to and from the gate, I didn’t expect him to make the twice
daily report. I did however instruct him to ensure I received a
sit-rep at 18:00 hours.” His face softens considerably. “If
you think we can afford to delay your return to P3X-729 until we’ve
received the sit-rep -- ”
I’m
sorely tempted. The thought of a rain-drenched Daniel is
unbearably erotic, not life threatening, and Carter and the guys need
me. “No, Sir,” I say quietly. “That won’t be
necessary. Maybe you could fill me in when I call in MY next
sit-rep?”
“Of
course,” he assures me at once. “Well done, people. Dismissed.”
Janet
and I rise smoothly to our feet. “Walk me down?” I ask her.
Janet
smiles and falls into step with me.
“Teal’c
– “
“Really
will be fine, Sir.”
“Really.”
“Really.
He’s in quarantine, he’s under close observation – “
“And
Junior’s got a lot of - ”
“Kick,”
Janet grins.
“Is
that a medical term?” I ask, lightening up a little.
“Indeed.
I’ll be sure to include a medical update for you when you make the
sit-rep, Sir,” Janet offers.
“I’m
pretty sure that will have at least one of us up at 03:00,” I say
wryly. “I appreciate it,” I thank her softly. Janet has to
be one of the best things that ever happened to this command.
The
klaxon sounds and we hear the announcement. Unscheduled off-world
activation. Automatically we both pick up the pace and
double-time it down the stairs, aware the general will be right behind
us. The gate activates.
“Report,”
I snap at the technician as the gateroom fills with SFs on alert.
“Receiving
IDC signal, Sir.”
“Authorised?”
I ask.
“Yes,
Sir It’s SG-11’s code.”
I
freeze. Doesn’t have to be bad news, just because they’re
checking in early. May just be taking advantage of a natural
break in the storm. Better to check in early than not check in at
all.
“Open
the iris,” I order as the general pounds down the last few stairs.
“SG-11
are transmitting early, Sir,” Janet promptly fills him in.
Hammond
leans over the microphone, “Stand by,” he orders the SFs.
We
wait in the tense silence for each of the chevrons to lock and
engage. Familiarity does breed contempt. I’m not lost in
wonder over a wormhole tamed, I’m sweating because the goddamned gate
takes so fucking long to activate. Finally – finally - after
seconds or a lifetime we see and hear the familiar ker-whoosh as the
event horizon boils out of the gate and stabilises.
“Are
you receiving MALP telemetry?” Janet asks, puzzled when nothing happens.
The
technician types furiously and grimaces, coming up empty.
“Nothing , Sir. Diagnostic confirms it.”
“Oh
GOD!” Janet is already moving. “Outta the way!” she ploughs
through the technicians coming up the stairs for the shift change,
“Medical emergency, Resus team to the gateroom,” she hollers.
The
general pounces on the phone as I pull myself together and tear off
after her. Bodies. We got bodies being tossed through the
gate. Five plus Daniel. Four plus Simpson plus
Daniel. We got two bodies as I plummet down the stairs, three as
I tear into the gateroom, the fourth as I hit the ramp. SFs
dividing, some holding position, a few rushing forward to help Janet.
DANNY.
Ohgodohgodohgod.
Janet
is frenziedly checking pulses, checking for wounds, moving rapidly from
one - corpse - to the next. I’m right behind her. Not
– none of them Danny.
I’m
GLAD, God help me, I’m glad.
Janet
squats on her heels by the last body, the one closest to the event
horizon, the last one she checked. Drops her head to her knees
for a moment. Takes a breath. Stands. Reports.
“No
survivors, General. Dr Jackson and Major Simpson are as yet
unaccounted for,” Janet says steadily. “Stand down,” she harshly
orders the medical teams pouring into the gateroom. There’s a
moment of absolute stillness, then the quiet, respectful removal of the
remains begins all around me.
I
taste bile burning the back of my throat, can hardly hear her for the
blood roaring in my ears. Let him be alive, PLEASE, let him be
alive. PLEASE. I can’t tear my eyes from the event horizon,
find myself staring at the concrete of the rear wall as the wormhole
abruptly disengages.
“Permission
to take a team through the gate, Sir?” I demand. I’m going.
Don’t make me go – through – Sir. I feel an icy hand touch mine,
look down into aching brown eyes. Allow the hand to turn me, draw
me away.
“Permission
granted, consequent on the MALP telemetry,” the general snaps.
“I’m not sending you in until we have some idea of what the hell
happened here. Doctor?”
Read
the runes.
“I’m
ordering immediate autopsies, Sir, but my initial check suggests an
energy weapon killed these men.”
Make
nice with the natives.
“Get
right on it,” Hammond orders brusquely.
“Sir,
if I may? The autopsies can be handled by my staff. Colonel
O’Neill is going to require back-up for the rescue mission. With
this emergency on P3X-729 taking all available manpower, Sirs, I’m
it. I volunteer for the mission,” Janet is demanding too.
“Agreed,
Major,” the general capitulates at my nod. Janet heads briskly
down the ramp and intercepts one of her staffers for some rapid fire
orders.
I’ve
got my hands in my pockets, they’re shaking so much. The general
doesn’t waste time on useless sympathy, he turns on his heel and barks
orders at the gateroom staff and the SFs, calling for Siler to get a
UAV down here ASAP. I fall into step beside him as we head back
up to the control room.
“We’ll
dial out, establish contact with the MALP. If we have injured men
near the gate,” the general pauses a moment. “the MALP will find
them. Jack?”
I
have to think. I’m no good to him if I can’t clear my mind of
this numbing, sullen grief. He needs me. “We’ve got no
teams available, Sir?”
“SG-1,
2 and 3 are tied up on P3X-729. SG-9 are negotiating for the safe
return of SG-4 from - ” Hammond looks at my face. “I’ll have to
call for volunteers, Jack. I’m truly sorry.”
“Janet
is a safe pair of hands. I trust her.” I take a deep
breath. “Daniel has made friends in the most surprising places,”
I say quietly. “I don’t think there’ll be any shortage of
volunteers.” I haven’t spoken to him since he left. I can
remember the last thing I said to him, though. Diachronic.
A joke. A very private, very dirty joke, just for us. He
was smiling at me. Laughing. Loving me. Happy,
knowing that I love him too.
Daniel
is not dead. He’s alive on the other side of that wormhole.
He has to STAY alive. I’ll find him. I will find him.
Back to Part Three / On
to Part Five
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